We slept on board. On the 27th we rose at daylight, and found that the baggage horses, Greek servants, and an excellent Arabian horse, which I bought at Athens, and which I sent round by land, had arrived at Epidauros. Having disembarked our baggage and discharged the vessel, we loaded the baggage on the horses, after which we started for Napoli di Romania, a small town situated on the Gulf of Argos, not many miles distant from Epidauros, through an undulating, picturesque, and rich country. On account of the guide taking the wrong road, we were obliged to stop at the village of Tero, where there are a considerable number of Roman and Greek remains.
On Friday, 28th March, we started at half-past six, and at noon reached the picturesque fortress of Napoli di Romania, on the east side of the Gulf of Argos, situated on a lofty hill commanding the entrance to the gulf. The miserable town lay beneath the citadel, which, as well as the town itself, was strongly fortified according to the Venetian system, and was a place of considerable strength, garrisoned by a set of bigoted Turkish troops, imbued with a thorough hatred of Christians, so that I was strongly advised not to stop there. There was, however, no alternative, as there was no other place near. I therefore rode into the town, and took up my quarters at the English Vice-Consul’s, who was a Greek. Immediately after my arrival I went out, and tried to get into the citadel, in order to have a view of the town and surrounding country, which was very fine, but the Turks refused me admittance in the most insolent manner, and told me to get about my business as quickly as possible. I found that it was of no use to attempt to proceed farther, and returned at once to the town, and after having examined it, and found nothing worthy of notice, returned to my lodgings. Here the Vice-Consul came to me in a great fright, and said that the Turks had been much annoyed at my arrival, and that I must depart directly; strongly urging me to do so, as he said that he could not protect me, and if I stayed he would not be responsible for the consequences. I replied that as it was night it was too late to depart then, but that I would do so the next morning at daybreak. To this he consented. I accordingly supped, and went to bed. On the following morning my servant and myself were in the saddle before daybreak, and were at the gates of the fortress waiting for them to be opened. In Turkish fortresses at that day it was the custom to make every foreigner and Greek dismount and walk over the drawbridge. I thought that this was degrading, and determined not to do it. As soon, therefore, as the gates were opened, and the drawbridge let down, I started off at a rapid pace, and told Demetrius to follow me. In passing the Turkish guard, consisting of three or four badly-armed men, they called out to me to stop, which I disregarded, and galloped off as fast as I could. I had scarcely proceeded a couple of hundred yards when, turning round, I saw Demetrius in the hands of the Turks, who were belabouring him with sticks, and trying to pull him off his horse. He kicked and fought with all his might. I immediately rode back with a loaded pistol in each hand, and dashed amongst the Turks, who soon released my man, and spurring our horses we galloped off as hard as possible, never pulling rein for a full mile, and then, finding we were not followed, stopped and joined our men and baggage, whom I had left behind in a small Greek house before I entered Nauplia the preceding evening. Thus I got happily out of this affair, which might have been rather serious; but I always found the best way was to show a bold front to the Turks, and not allow them to insult you. After a little halt we started again, and stopped to examine the ruins of the ancient city of Tiryns, said to have been built by the Cyclopeans. These are very curious and interesting, and are supposed to be the oldest specimens of architecture in Greece. They are constructed of rough, only partially hewn blocks of stone, rudely put together without cement. We have here an attempt to construct a Gothic arch; but the stones are not radiated, the beds being flat, each stone projecting over another until they meet in the centre. These ruins are extensive, covering a surface of several acres. They are well described and represented in Gell’s ‘Itinerary.’
From Tiryns I proceeded to Mycene, about 12 miles farther northward. These ruins are also very extensive, and once formed the capital of Agamemnon, with a small surrounding territory. The chief building worthy of remark is the Hall of Atreus. This, of the kind, is a fine work, constructed of solid masonry, of large blocks of stone well squared, and put together without cement. The hall is circular, and 47 feet 6 inches in diameter in the inside, and 42 feet 6 inches high, the top covered by a single stone, thus forming a Gothic arch inside of squared blocks of stone, the beds being horizontal, and the stones projecting over each other in the inside until they meet in the centre, the angles of the projecting stones in the inside being cut off and dressed smoothly on the face, so that, when viewing it from within, the whole has the appearance of a nicely-constructed dome, lighted from the top by a circular opening. The side walls are 18 feet 6 inches at bottom, diminishing to 18 inches at top. It is a remarkable work, and may be considered as one of the earliest specimens of the arch, and a considerable improvement upon that of Tiryns. The entrance to the hall is by a massive doorway, the sides being formed of single stones well dressed, and the top of another single block equally well prepared; this is surmounted by another large block, upon which is sculptured in bold relief two lions rampant. The approach to the doorway is between two solid walls of masonry, forming a passage open to the air. This being near the summit of a hill, there is a fine view from it over the plain, or rather valley, beneath, backed by the ruins of the ancient city of Argos and its Acropolis, on the Gulf of Nauplia, and on the west by a fine range of mountains, the highest of which towers prominently above the rest, standing far above the level of the Mediterranean.
After having measured the Hall of Atreus, and having made a sketch of the surrounding country, during which my people had managed to cook an excellent dinner in the open air, I dined, and started about 4 P.M., and reached Argos at 5 P.M. The ruins of the ancient city contain little worthy of remark, and the modern one is a miserable village, seated amongst the ruins. The rich country was not half cultivated, merely dotted here and there with a few vineyards and olive woods. Argos is now about a mile from the head of the Gulf of Nauplia, but it is very probable that in former times the sea washed the walls of the ancient city; the intervening space has been filled up by alluvial deposit, and it is now little better than a marsh.
I slept at the caravanserai, and next morning started for the Temple of Jupiter at Nemea, passing through a rich valley with vines, grain, and olives, and the village of Agioz Georgious, near which is a convent on a hill. These convents are not the seats of learning, for the monks are lazy and ignorant; but they form comfortable resting-places for travellers who pay well for their accommodation. The ruins of the Temple of Jupiter, well described by Gell, consist only of three columns of an indifferent style of Doric.
Having returned to Argos to sleep, on Sunday, May 1, I arose early. The morning was wet and stormy, and I was detained by the muleteer demanding extra pay for the horses, which, however, the Bey decided against him. We accordingly started about seven, and soon after began to ascend the Pass through the mountains, having on the left the miserable village Lerna, seated on the swampy shore of the gulf, anciently called Hydra; and hence was derived the Lernean hydra or monster, celebrated by Virgil. This was no doubt nothing more than the malaria fever personified, which prevails severely in this district. In fact, the whole of this country had a wretched, forlorn, deserted appearance. The population was scanty, oppressed by poverty, misery, and tyranny, their countenances for the most part pale and haggard, expressing despair and dejection, to extricate themselves from which appeared hopeless; whilst the surrounding country, naturally fertile, aided by the influence of a genial climate, only required the industry of man to make it yield the richest reward. Nothing was done; all lay dead and desolate. Nature seemed to have done everything for man, while man had in everything neglected nature; a not uncommon occurrence, and one which, as far as my experience goes, has produced more misery than almost anything else.
We began to ascend the Pass over a rude causeway, about eight or ten feet wide, in many places cut up into deep gullies by the torrents; the ascent steep, rugged, and difficult, fit only for mules and pack-horses. The evening was fine, however, the air fresh and invigorating, and the scenery beautiful, which raised my spirits after the melancholy caused by the depressing influence of the sight of so much desolation. Having got to the summit of the Pass, we had a magnificent view on both sides. Looking back, we had the Gulf of Nauplia, with the picturesque fortress at the entrance, the plain of Argos and its ruins, also those of Mycene and Tiryns, backed by a rugged outline of hills; on the west the fertile plain, with its capital Tripolitza, and the ruins of Mantinea, backed by a bold line of hills, with the magnificent Taygetus rising 7000 feet, flanked on both sides by the blue waters of the Mediterranean. We reached Tripolitza just after dark, and, as usual, put up at the best Greek house where we could find admittance; and as I had a good sumpter mule, Demetrius soon prepared a capital supper, which I enjoyed much after a hard-working day of nineteen hours, during which I had been fourteen hours in the saddle. I slept soundly, notwithstanding the attacks of numerous fleas, to which by this time I had become tolerably well accustomed.
Tripolitza, although the capital of the Morea, was but a poor place, with about 4000 inhabitants, and the Turkish garrison of about 300 men. The Governor’s palace was merely an assemblage of some low, insignificant buildings enclosed within a wall. The rest of the town consisted of irregular, crooked, narrow, dirty streets, some of them hardly wide enough for a carriage, for which, indeed, there was no need, and there were none; with a place or square near the centre, surrounded by cafés, where the Turks and better class of natives, such as they were, sat idly smoking their long pipes and nargillas with that stupid indifference and repose which characterized them, perfectly regardless of any but themselves, and quite unconscious and indifferent to the misery around them. There were one or two bazaars, where all the business of the place was transacted; in these cloths, furs, shawls, leather articles, such as saddles, bridles, &c., silks, arms, pipes, tobacco, and provisions of all kinds, were sold, but scarcely any articles of European manufacture. The town was surrounded by a crenellated wall, unfit for artillery, and incapable of resistance to European troops; and there were two or three mosques, with their minarets rising above the mass of insignificant buildings, and a few Greek churches, the interiors of which were decorated with rude and almost grotesque representations of saints. These edifices, towering above the rest, had a picturesque and imposing effect when viewed from a distance, but this vanished the moment you drew near and entered, when little else but dirt and misery met the eye.
The following day after my arrival I walked about the town, amusing myself with the little which was to be seen; and the next day I rode, accompanied by my servant Demetrius, to the ruins of the ancient Mantinea, formerly a city of considerable importance, and well fortified according to the style of that period. It was surrounded by a strong lofty stone wall, about 25 feet high, flanked at intervals by circular turrets, and in front of each entrance there was a kind of lunette or advanced work to protect it, so that an enemy, in endeavouring to enter, was exposed to flank attacks from the garrison. These walls were surrounded by a wide ditch filled with water, and the total surface enclosed by them is considerable. The ruins within consist of the remains of a hippodrome, theatre, and other private and public buildings, concerning which, from their scattered and dilapidated condition, it was difficult to define anything accurately. In the neighbourhood of Tripolitza there are numerous kalavatha, or subterranean conduits for carrying off the water for drainage, irrigation, and supplying the inhabitants. The river flowing through the plain, if such it can be called, is an insignificant stream; it is connected with the subterranean conduits described above. The surrounding country was tolerably cultivated, and produced corn, pulse, oil, and wine, both red and white. This wine was made in a very rough way, and, in order to preserve it, was mixed with a certain quantity of turpentine, which gave it a strong bitter flavour, by no means agreeable at first; and until you become accustomed to it, you cannot drink it with any degree of relish, but by degrees you like it, and it is very wholesome.